A Prime Opportunity
by Fetherhd
Summary: Like many...I was moved by the loss of our Mars Rover, Opportunity. I decided that she deserved more than to fade away, cold and all alone in the dark. she deserves a happy ending. I thing a Prime would understand.
1. A Prime Opportunity

I found that like many I was really moved by the loss of the Mars Rover, Opportunity. It bothered me to the point that I wrote a quick little story on one of my face book groups so that she could have the happy ending she deserved. It quickly morphed into a plot bunny that will not leave me alone. I expect this to be just a couple of chapters long. I have written fanfiction in fandoms, this is my first attempt at a Transformer's story. It is a bit AU in that I will be combining the several of the different Transformer verses together. This is a not for profit fanfiction. I get nothing from it but the joy of playing in their world.

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A Prime Opportunity

Machines don't feel emotion. The Mars Rover named "Opportunity" was equipped with just enough processing ability to analyze its environment and give it some autonomy when it came to making decisions about its survival. When notified of the weather system sweeping down on it, Opportunity had quickly concluded that there was little chance that it had the power reserves to outlast the storm. It had not known fear, or sadness, or hope as it activated its hibernation protocols. It only knew that powering down all of its non-essential functions in a bid to conserve what energy it could, MIGHT give it a chance to remain functional. As the storm arrived, alarms had forced it back online. Howling, sand laden wind scoured across its solar panels. Opportunity could not feel pain, but it was aware that it was taking fatal damage. Worse, the star light that recharged its solar cells was fading, completely cut off by that same dust laden wind. Soon the little Rover would be surrounded by blackest night. Running several simulations confirmed that, unless things changed soon, it would not have enough stored energy to remain functional once the storm passed. Before settling back into hibernation mode…Opportunity sent out what it knew would be its last message.

"My batteries are low…and it is getting dark."

The weather system had raged for weeks across the pitted face of the red planet. Now, its strength was nearly spent. Even so, powerful winds still occasionally roared across the surface only marginally slowed by sporadic rocky outcrops. Moaning like a living thing… it slammed against stones sculpted into unusual shapes by eons of erosion, then rolled out and down into a long wide valley. As it swept through this sheltered place, it released some of its sediment load, creating a soft rain of fine particles that settled slowly, dimming the light of the distance star which had only recently started to emerge from the planet wide darkness the storm had wrought in its wake.

Tucked in the lee of a rock outcrop, a small machine was pinged by its caretakers one last time. Opportunity managed to bring its processors back online by keeping all its other sensors and functions powered down. It listened to the attempts to re-establish a link, but it did not have the energy required to connect and pulse an answer back. It was completely isolated as its systems slowly failed… cold, and blind, far from the warm world of its creation. It used precious energy to LISTEN for those pings even if it could not answer. Machines are not capable of feeling sorrow, fear or hope. Even so, when the pings stopped…Opportunity stayed awake, still listening… and those who could feel sorrow… its creators… sent their goodbyes in the form of music so that the little Rover would not have to die alone. Opportunity listened until the last note faded away…and then silently powered down for the last time.

* * *

In the distance… a hot point of light came into existence and swirling green energy followed…roiling and twisting to form into a lightening ringed tunnel. A massive blue and red form strode out of the brightness, followed by a slightly smaller, rather fluorescent one. As the energy bridge winked out, the larger of the two turned away from wind, one servo lifting to protect an air intake as he coughed out the excess dust that got past his filtration system.

"Primus, Ratchet…I thought you said this storm was over?"

Ratchet growled and shot a rather baleful glare at his Prime.

"I did. I also said that we should give it a week for the dust to settle. YOU… Optimus… were the one who bumped this mission to top priority. I would have been much more comfortable giving a cobbled together Ground bridge, converted into a make shift SPACE bridge, by that explosion happy, not to mention INSANE engineer… several more dry runs. A little dust in the intakes is the least of my worries. I can't believe I let you talk me into actually entering one of Wheeljack's off the wall inventions! Even if we ignore the very real chance of getting blown to fragments… with the spacial distortion caused by activating a space bridge with gates in not one, but TWO planet's gravitational fields, well…let's just say we are lucky we got through without our shiny helms being grafted to our afts!"

Optimus calmly blinked at his friend's tirade, then he activated his battle mask. It would not be much help against the dust, but it would serve to protect him from a thrown wrench by hiding his sudden smile from the crochety old mech. His medical officer's head swiveled around at the sound of the mechanism locking in place, well-honed battle protocols kicking in as his lip plates snapped shut. Optimus winced when the pulse of a high-resolution scan swept through him as the medic instinctively checked the general area for threats. When nothing registered, the other's keen gaze settled back on the Prime, one servo twitching as if the desire to grab a wrench was barely controlled. More worrisome was the sudden rather nasty smile that appeared on his old friend's noble features. Ratchet vented out hard and motioned at the dust he expelled with a still twitching servo.

"You know Optimus… I think you are right; this dust might just be problematic. I expect to see you in my med bay as soon as we return for a full system flush."

That smile became positively smug as the one hidden under Optimus Prime's battle mask suddenly evaporated.

"Really Ratchet, I don't think that will be nec…."

The medic did not hesitate in interrupting his leader's protest.

"eh eh eh I will be the judge of what's necessary …. consider it a medical order…Prime!"

The battle mask did nothing to muffle the big mech's quiet response to this…

"Frag me…"

Ratchet turned away as his smile morphed into an outright grin. He stored that memory in a permanent file so he could share it with the others later. After all, it was not often that their steadfast leader could be provoked into swearing. This rare event was usually reserved for the twin's hijinks… or for Wheeljack, when the inventor managed to detonate his labs.

Shaking himself to settle his armor, the dust really was the pits, he pulled a small device from subspace and calibrated it to Cybertronian operating norms. While his medical scanners were very powerful in proximity, they did not have a substantial range. Their mission was to determine if Mars would be a suitable place to establish a colony if their situation on Earth deteriorated. Adult Cybertronian's could handle a wide range of conditions without too much hardship. Sparklings though, required a more specialized environment. He huffed out through his vents. For a moment his gaze settled on the broad back plates of their Prime. With the war still raging, and the All Spark lost, the chances of bonded pairs producing viable sparks was astronomically slim. Still, Optimus held out hope that they could stop their races inevitable slide into extinction. A ping from the device in his servo brought the medic's attention back to it. Optimus turned as it pinged a second time.

"Ratchet?"

The medic could only shake his head.

"Its impossible, Optimus. I am getting a very low energy reading situated approximately two miles from here."

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Please leave a review if you liked this...I hope to get the next chapter up fairly quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

I want to thank those people that left reviews on my first chapter. I appreciate knowing that people are enjoying my little tales. This is a fanfiction. I make no profit from it.

A Prime Opportunity, Chapter 2

Prime's helm swiveled around. There had been no reports of any incoming newcomers since the arrival of the Ark. Anticipating the Human bureaucracy's reaction to having a ship that size entering their atmosphere, He had instructed Prowl to tuck it into temporary orbit behind the moon. The Ark had attained substantial damage in its long journey from Cybertron. Once planet bound it would not move again. This was one of the reasons he and Ratchet were investigating Mars. Still, there was a slight chance an individual responding to his call had crashed here instead of on Earth.

"That is unexpected. Is it Cybertronian?"

Ratchet made a couple of adjustments to his scanner, then shook his helm.

"I can't tell. It is not very strong, and it is getting weaker as we speak."

Optimus nodded and recalibrated his optics, trying to see through the dust hazed atmosphere. It did no good. The medic, who was obviously doing the same thing, rumbled a low growl.

"Primus be damned dust! We are going to have to go and look. I would hate to lose one of ours just because we could not spare the time."

"Agreed." Optimus gave himself a shake, armor lifting with an odd shiver as he dislodged as much of the settling dust as possible. He was communicating with headquarters by the time he had completely shifted to his alt form.

"Prowl, Ratchet has picked up a weak energy signature. We are altering our route to investigate."

His Second in Command's response was almost immediate.

"Is it one of ours?"

The Hummer shifted, rocking impatiently on his wheels. The CMO's base coding was pushing him to be on the move, but he took the time to answer.

"That is slagging irrelevant Prowl… what ever it is, it's dying and needs our help!"

Both mech's revved their engines to clear the dust out of idling systems but waited, knowing their Tactician was going through all the relevant data he had available. Finally, he gave them the all clear.

"Acknowledged Ratchet... The chance of it being an errant Decipticon is low at only eleven point three three nine percent… but it is ORION leading the mission after all…. Please proceed with caution."

The semi's indignant sputter was drowned at by his friend's snickering as both shifted into gear to roll out.

* * *

Ratchet was in the lead and still snickering when they hit the first soft spot. The medic was very old and was as war worn as any front-line soldier. His time wrestling with death in the trenches had left him with little capacity for laughter. Still, it was not often that Prowl brought his very dry sense of humor out into the light. EVERYONE, except Optimus, knew that having the big mech on a mission pretty much guaranteed it to go sideways, no matter how innocuous the task. Their SiC could probably recite the percentages right down to the last memorized decimal point!

The Hummer's frame shuddered as his tires lost traction, spun, sank, then ploughed on through the soft sand as his four-wheel drive engaged. He tilted a mirror back, focusing on his friend just as the big semi's front end dropped, spinning wheels slinging sand everywhere as his massive frame buried itself in the soft spot, all the way up to his axles. Ratchet stopped and waited as Optimus transformed back to his root mode and pulled himself out of the hole. The old mech winced as he watched the sand pour off the other mech's armor as he shook himself and transformed back to vehicle mode. The third time this happened, Optimus buried himself so deep, Ratchet had to shift back to root mode and use his considerable strength to help pull the bigger mech to safety. The harsh, grating feel of the abrasive dust in his transformation seams and joints had the CMO swearing. He could not imagine how miserable his friend was feeling. Judging by the grinding sounds when he transformed, the Prime had to have the damned stuff all through him. Getting it cleaned out was going to be a bitch of a job. Checking his scanner, Ratchet put a servo on the other's dusty arm.

"Don't you transform again, you fragger… I don't want to even THINK about all the Primus forsaken places you've forced that slag in to. It's not that much farther. We can walk."

Optimus pinned him with a dirty look, opened all his intakes and vented out…hard. Both mech's were instantly ingulfed in a cloud of dust. Ratchet just tutted at him as he turned away… following the scanner's signal towards a steep incline that led down into a long low valley.

"eh…eh…eh…don't give me that look. It's not like you are the only mech who has a date with a Roomba when we get back! I am getting to old for this slag…should have made you bring Prowl instead of me."

"Probably…"

Ratchet's helm whipped around, both optics narrowed in outrage. Sure, it was no secret he was old, but the fragger did not have to AGREE with him…out loud! And that slagging battle mask did NOTHING to hide the fact that the Prime was smiling behind it. The big mech lifted both servos in surrender.

"I mean…. yes, I probably should have brought Prowl…his Praxian sensors are even more sensitive than your hand-held scanner." The mask slid back as the Prime's face became solemn. "But, can you imagine what this sand would do to his wings?"

Ratchet winced…as a matter of fact, he COULD imagine that. Those door wings were filled with delicate, very sensitive sensors and circuitry. Just the wind blowing the abrasive sand across them would be painful…not to mention cleaning it all out afterward would be a nightmare…for both of them. With a sigh the medic looked up. He hated to disappoint his friend.

"You know, this sand might become problematic to establishing a colony here."

Optimus nodded.

"Possibly…it may make things difficult, but it is not, as the human's say, a deal breaker. Have you noticed that since we entered this Valley the wind has died off? "

Ratchet stopped and looked around. Not only had the wind slowed substantially, but it carried a lot less of the biting sand.

"Heh…. you're right." He pointed a long digit towards a rocky outcrop. "That is probably why our friend over there, ended up in it."

"Friend? Is it one of ours after all?"

* * *

FRAG…it was not often that the medic was sorry for something that slipped past his lip plates. But the hope that filled his friend's blue optics made him want to eat his Pede. He put a servo out to slow his Prime's approach to a possible unknown.

"No…Primus no…sorry Optimus, I should have stated that better. It's not Cybertronian at all. I think it is one of the human's machines."

For cautions sake…after all this WAS Optimus…they split up and came around the outcrop from two sides. Both breathed a silent vent of relief when nothing jumped out or shot at them. Of course, even if it had jumped out…there was not much that the tiny machine they found could have done. Exchanging slightly sheepish glances…they both knelt in the sand to take a closer look at the primitive boxy little thing. Ratchet ran a low-level scan. He had found through unfortunate trial and error that most human tech fritzed out if he used his higher resolution ones. He clicked softly in disapproval at what he found.

"This things batteries are shot. It doesn't even have enough juice to boot up its processor so I can connect and run a diagnostic. Hmmm…. Maybe I can give it a little jump?"

* * *

Optimus watched as the medic muttered to himself, quick servos fixing a wire here and adjusting cables there. The Prime knew this was not a sentient construct but still he reached out and gently slipped a digit under one solar panel wing. He lifted and shifted, ignoring his friends hissed curse, so that it was sitting more level. It was quite evident that the tires on one side had bogged down in softer sand. The little thing had been stuck here for some time. Using one of his wrist intakes, the mech vented a stream of air to blow the remaining sand off the fragile solar panels. This revealed that the smooth, glassy surface needed to collect solar energy had become dulled and pitted. Even if its batteries had enough power to get it out into the dim sunlight, this one was doomed to starve. His CMO interrupted his train of thought.

"Optimus, you probably don't want to be touching that when I give it some spark…it might sting a bit."

The big mech hastily removed his digits from where they had been gently stroking. He had been on the receiving end of Ratchet's jumps more than once. For an old mech, he packed one pit of a punch…sting was an understatement. Once he had moved…the other mech shifted a couple of digits into prongs. A deep whine reverberated in the thin atmosphere as the medic cycled his spark up. He then slipped both prongs into the compartment that he had opened and released the charge. Sparks crackled and flew…and the little machine jerked, then screamed. Ratchet immediately cut the current, withdrawing and retracting his prongs. His servos hovered over his patient as Its frame trembled and the shutters protecting its camera lenses lifted, the whole assembly turning as if it was looking at them. Even as they watched though, the light faded from its optics and with a couple of soft chirps and click the shutters closed as it shut back down.

Optimus did not say a word as his friend pull his servos back, digits tightly fisted as he stood and turned away, armor plates pulled in so tight it looked painful. Those talented servos were shaking. Worse, there was no outraged swearing, just silence. It had been a very long time since the destruction of the nurseries on Cybertron. Both had been there for the aftermath of that heinous attack. They had no choice but to leave most of those small forms buried in the ash and rubble of that devastated place. Ratchet had worked frantically with the few found still clinging to life…but sparklings were notoriously fragile and only one youngling had survived. The old medic's spark had borne the brunt of the small lives he could not save. Even though they knew this was not a sparked being, the sounds this little one made were close enough to a sparkling in pain it had activated memory files best left long buried.

After a moment…the fisted servos relaxed. The medic turned.

"Its as I thought. Its batteries won't hold a charge. There is nothing I can do here."

It broke the Prime's spark to see his friend take all that pain and just push it down.

"Ratchet…?"

Fire flashed in those haunted optics as they narrowed in sudden anger.

"Don't Optimus…just… don't…."

Before he could answer, the big mech was interrupted by an incoming transmission.

"Optimus… telemetry shows that you have not moved in some time and that Ratchet's resuscitation protocols were activated. Do you need assistance?"

"We are fine, Prowl. We tracked down that energy signature. It came from a malfunctioning human construct. Ratchet tried to bring it back online so we could get some information but was unsuccessful."

"Ah…Understood." If the Praxian felt any disappointment that it had not been a Cybertronian, it could not be heard in his cool and collected words.

Optimus watched as his CMO moved the little machine back against the rocks so that it was better protected from the weather. He pretended not to notice when the mech finished blowing all the sand off it. There was a commotion in the background at headquarters and he could hear Prowl's long-suffering sigh before the SiC continued.

"I apologize… but the boy overheard us and wants to know if you can send a picture file of what you found. He may have some idea of what it is."

The Prime sent a still of how their find had looked in the brief moment it had been awake. He was more than a little surprised when it was Sam who crowed over the link,

"Holy CRAP Optimus…you found her! That's Oppy, the little Rover that could!"

At the confused silence… Sam continued.

"Listen. Opportunity was built to explore and take samples on Mars. She was looking for evidence of water or better yet…life. Her mission was supposed to only last for ninety days. She wasn't built for the long term."

Ratchet snorted… the contempt he had for most human tech quite evident in his voice.

"You can say that again Sam. This thing is beat to the pit. I am surprised it lasted ten days… let alone ninety."

There was something sad in the boy's voice when he softly answered.

"That's just it Ratchet. She taught us so much in the time she was there. Opportunity touched down on Mars over FOURTEEN years ago. They only lost contact with her when this last storm hit. She has been doing her job almost my entire life. She is a hero to a lot of people."

Optimus was again struck by humanities capacity to care when the boy whispered.

"Do me a favor Optimus… make sure she has a marker or something. Its bad enough she had to die up there in the dark and all alone. There needs to be something for her to be remembered by if we ever make it up to Mars."

A quick glance proved that Ratchet had heard the boy… the medic had turned away, back plates locked tight, servos fisted at his sides.

"I give my word that she will not be forgotten, Samuel. Please inform Prowl that we need a bridge."

Green energy started to spin as the Prime returned to kneel beside the little Rover. Ratchet turned and one of his brow ridges lifted as he watched his friend stroke a careful digit over the rover's solar panels.

"It isn't sparked Optimus…slag, by our standards it does not even classify as a drone."

That noble head tilted as the other flashed him a knowing look, blue eyes lingering on the servos still fisted at the medic's sides.

"I know old friend. That does not mean that she does not deserve better than to die alone, abandoned on a world not her own."

Ratchet's lip plates tightened as he realized what his friend was going to do. Then he gave himself a little shake, resettling his armor and nodded. A careful hand slid under Opportunity and lifted it to be gently cradled against the warm chest plates covering the Prime's spark as the big mech rose.

"Come little one. Your job is finished here, and you have done it well. I believe it is time for you to go home."

* * *

I had originally intended to end this here. BUT I do have some ideas that could extend this little tale as part of another larger one I am planning on writing. Let me Know if you feel this is a good place to end this…or if you would like to see Opportunity get a real chance at life!


	3. Chapter 3

I want to take a moment and thank all who have taken the time to leave me feedback on this story. There will be some plot lines, events and an O.C. mentioned in this that will take place in the full-sized story that I am planning on writing if there is any interest in it. This is a bit AU in that it combines elements of TF Prime and The Bay verse movies…plus a few odds and ends that I have picked up that might or might not be cannon. It takes place a little over two years after the battle in Mission city and the destruction of the All Spark. The events of the second movie, Revenge of the Fallen have occurred but none after. Wheeljack is a combination of the sweet natured engineer/inventor Que…and the rough and ready, engineer turned Wrecker from TFP. The Autobot base is located in an abandoned hidden military facility much like in TFP. Again, I hope you are enjoying this little part of the bigger story. I think there will be one more chapter in this arc.

This is a fanfiction, written for the pure joy of creation, I make not profit from it.

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A Prime Opportunity chapter 3

Ratchet knew they had a problem just seconds after entering their make shift bridge's aperture. Power that should have been swirling smoothly around them was surging, creating arcs of hot plasma that flashed and sizzled to ground dangerously close as the gate closed behind them.

"DAMN it to the pit! I KNEW better then to trust something that slagger worked on. Fragging RUN!"

The larger bot might have been younger, and he had a longer stride, but medics were built with the ability to turn on some speed if needed. It came in handy when there were lives on the line. As a result, Ratchet was ahead of his Prime when he exited the unstable bridge into chaos. Smoke and flame proved that, as usual with Wheeljack, something had exploded. All that could be seen of said mech was his legs sticking out from underneath the sparking control console as he hollered muffled instructions to Prowl. Their tactical commander looked up when Ratchet skidded to a halt, relief plainly evident on his gray tinged face as his steady digits flew over the controls, fighting to keep the bridge operational a few seconds more. Seeing those blue optics widen as the usually composed bot screamed something down to the almost hidden engineer had Ratchet spinning in place, then lunging back towards the bridge in a panic as the aperture shrank, plasma arcing wildly around the one who had yet to exit. Someone tackled him before he could reach his friend. This bot was smaller than him but had the skill to put him down and keep him there even though the old mech used every dirty trick in his considerable arsenal to get away. The other hissed after a particularly nasty strike in a very sensitive area.

"OUCH…Slag it Doc… donna make me hurt ya… FRAG…STOP it… Jackie and Prowler's got it handled…"

Recognition of the only mech crazy enough to use that nickname had Ratchet freezing in place. He knew better than to push his luck…even at less than one hundred percent, the Special Ops Commander could and would back up that threat if he felt he needed to.

From his spot on the floor the medic was perfectly placed to witness Wheeljack's hasty exit out from under the console. The mech rose and roughly shouldered Prowl out of the way. Talented servos skimmed over the controls. When nothing he did seemed to help, the Engineer doubled up his fists then slammed them down hard on the malfunctioning equipment. The second time he did this, something fritzed and electricity danced a wicked tango up the mech's arms. The panels on either side of his head flared bright white as Wheeljack jerked up straight with a choked off scream but held his position as the bridge's aperture stabilized then widened. Prowl was already there, black servo reaching through to interlock with blue as the Praxian helped pull the larger bot through. Optimus staggered into sight, dropping to a knee just as the opening slammed shut behind him. With nowhere to go, the energy backlashed through what was left of the console causing it to disintegrate rather spectacularly in a shower of electricity, metal shrapnel and flame. Wheeljack yelped as a large servo clamped down on his arm and jerked him away from the small explosion to land in a smoking heap on the floor. The big black mech who was attached to that servo hissed and swore as his system received a painful jolt from the contact but did not hesitate as he used an extinguisher to smother the fire.

"Slag it Wheeljack…one of these days you are going to blow yerself to the pit and take half of us with you!"

The Engineer turned Wrecker slowly rolled over and coughed a cloud of smoke out of his vents. He lifted a paint blistered arm with one blackened crispy digit raised.

"Been there…done that! It's not as much fun as you might think, Ironhide!"

For a moment the only sounds heard were the hiss of fire extinguishers and the soft whir of more than one Autobot's internal cooling systems working overtime. The silence was broken when the mech who was literally sitting on Ratchet slowly rose. The medic's trained optics did not miss the small wince as Jazz offered a slightly shaky servo to help pull him up.

"My mech…next time ah try to escape Medbay, and there will be a next time…just remind me that ya fight dirty. Might jest convince me ta stay put a bit longer."

Ratchet snorted as he pulled himself up in such a way that the other bore very little of his considerable weight. For millennia it had seemed that the Special Ops Commandeer was indestructible. This had changed in Mission city. It would be a very long while before the image of Jazz's shattered body and empty spark chamber stopped haunting the medic's recharge. These thoughts made him sound harsher than he really meant to.

" As IF…speaking of which…what in the PIT are you doing out of Medbay?!"

The silver Mech stepped back and placed a servo dramatically over his spark.

"Doc Bot… ah am wounded!" His versatile voice took on a sad whine…" Would ya really keep a good mech berth bound when there's all this fun to be had!?"

Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously but before he could open his mouth to give the little slagger a piece of his processor, Jazz put a long digit up to it.

"SHHHH…don answer that!"

The CMO's engine growled a deep warning as the offending digit wiggled back and forth, then traced a sharp tip over his lip plates in a suggestive manner. The other mech's visor hid his optics but Ratchet could see that the fragger was grinning. For a second, he entertained the thought of biting that digit clean off.

The Spy Master was excellent at reading other bot's body language. He snatched his servo away and shook it at his friend. His visor tilted towards where Prowl was helping Optimus regain his pedes.

"Ah jest figured that since ya let Prowler outta Medbay ta play…ya wouldna mind if ah tagged along."

The medic scanned the little aft and released a frustrated vent as the eldritch glyphs that now scrolled over every inch of the mech's internal struts flared in warning. He withdrew before they could sting him but saw enough to know he had not damaged the recently recovered mech with his underhanded fighting tactics. Swearing softly, he and Grimm were going to have a conversation about the interference with his medical scans, he shifted and initiated a deep scan on Optimus. Other than carrying a Semi truck load of Martian sand in his internals, their leader seemed no worse for wear. Recalibrating, the CMO included Prowl… that mech's systems were still fragged to the pit. It had not been Ratchet's choice to let the Praxian out of Medbay, Prime had wanted a level head in the Command Center on the off chance that things went badly; a good decision as it turned out. Ratchet was preoccupied with diagnosing what he saw and as a result, he spoke without thinking.

"PROWL wasn't de…."

Ratchet flinched as his processor caught up and he cut the rest off before it could escape his treacherous mouth. Too late… Jazz's visor went almost black, and the other mech became eerily still before leaning in to coldly whisper.

"He might as well have been..."

Ratchet froze. Jazz had NOT been happy when he awakened to find Prowl almost dead from Spark-Break. He went from unhappy to positively LIVID when he found out that his Bonded had suffered with that shattered Spark for over two Earth years before an alien WITCH and not his Prime had brought Jazz back online. There were more than a few bots who had breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the Tactician had not deactivated as he intended to on the day that Angelique Grimm stepped in to raise the dead. Ratchet was one of them. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Prowl had given up and gone to the Well of Sparks after fighting for so long, it would have been Meister who opened his optics that fated day… energon would have flowed.

For a frightening moment, the old mech was positive that was who was staring back at him from behind that cold black visor. The spell was broken when the other mech gave himself a slight shake, lifting his armor then sleeking it back down into place. The finger that had shushed the medic rose to tap him lightly over his Spark as Jazz's mask slowly brightened.

"Ya are a wise ole mech, Ratchet."

Then the saboteur spun away to saunter towards Prowl and Optimus.

"HEYA O.P… watcha got there?"

Ratchet out vented in quiet relief. Then he took a moment, while his two walking wounded's helms bent over the little machine still cradled in Optimus's servo, to turn and run a scan over Wheeljack as Ironhide helped the singed mech to his pedes. It showed that the engineer had gotten lucky this time…most of the damage was cosmetic. Still, the medic rumbled a low growl when he got a good look at what was left of his ground bridge console, the fragger had earned some time under his tender mercy.

"Slag it to the pit…Wheeljack…I NEEDED that!"

In typical wrecker fashion, the other mech just dug himself a little deeper.

"Hey What can I say…engineering 101, if you can't sweet talk something into working… smack the slag out of it until it gives up! Works every time."

Ironhide grinned as he let go of the engineer. His softly murmured words were for that mech alone as he gave him a little push towards the medic.

"Oh Wheeljack…. That was so unwise."

Ratchet's servo shot out, locking down on the other's singed shoulder plate as he tried to back pedal.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Before the hapless mech could answer, Ratchet turned, just in time to see Prowl step fastidiously aside to avoid the small cascade of sand created when his Prime shifted an arm to give Jazz a better view of the little Rover.

Wheeljack winced as the servo on his shoulder tightened. This was accompanied by a low rumble from the medic that had Ironhide very casually stepping away.

"Optimus, you can practice show and tell after you all get your afts down to Medbay."

Ratchet's optics narrowed dangerously as all three of the fraggers AND the idiot he was holding opened their intakes to argue with him. His engine revved with an unnerving whine as a wrench magically appeared in his other servo. He pointed it at each of the three and shook the unhappy mech caught in his strong grip.

"Eh eh eh…all…four…of…you…Medbay…. NOW!"

He gave Wheeljack a little push as the Command Center door slid open, only to find Bumblebee; Sam in one hand, Angelique in the other, standing in the way. The other bot shifted as if trying to decide whether to enter or run for it.

Ratchet hissed and bared his denta at the pale woman holding on to the Scout's digits, he was going to put a fragging LOCK on that pit slagged Medbay door that only HE could open! Her dark eyes met his optics without flinching, red lips curved in a small, sly smile.

"Technically…I am not walking."

The wrench filled servo twitched and the old mech was not proud that his track record with the human witch was so poor that Optimus hastily stepped forward, putting his large frame in between them. The Prime silently motioned for Bumblebee to get in line behind the small train of unhappy mechs. The medic sub-spaced his wrench and continued towards Medbay, at least the young one had had the sense to take the humans OUT of the command center when the gate had been in operation.

Since ALL his patients were currently in the line behind him, the medical area was empty except for Maintenance Drone M36. The little bot was busy polishing the surface of a surgical berth with the buffers on its undercarriage when they entered. Ratchet was not surprised when Sam waved at it from his high perch on Bumblebee's shoulder

"Hey there Roomba!"

The Scout carefully deposited the other human on one of the beds set up in a small alcove built specifically for any fleshy patients that might have to be dealt with. One time getting caught flat footed with a life-threatening human emergency had been enough for the old medic.

The drone's feathery sensory finials waved in a manner that reminded the medic of the antennae possessed by this world's many insect species, but it did not react to the boy's greeting. Ratchet fought the urge to roll his optics. Sam had been trying to make a pet of the drone ever since Wheeljack had found, and then retrieved it from the exterior of the Ark.

"Samuel… for the last time… the drone's designation is M36…not Roomba. It is a sparkless creation…not a mech. It was designed to go into places most mech's can't or WON'T in service to Metroplex…Hence the M in M36. It won't answer you as it does not have the programming to acknowledge a human as anything but an organic infestation that quite possibly needs to be cleansed out of the base's systems."

This was not entirely true due to modifications the medic had been making to the drone's processor and programming, but the boy did not need to know that. No one was sure how M36 had managed to hitch a ride on the Ark. The cityplex maintenance drones were supposed to be dependent on the massive mech's they were created to take care of. The bot was designed to offline if it left Metroplex's EM field. Ratchet had his suspicions. The thing's coding was more complex than it should have been.

The old mech was taken back by the crestfallen look that settled on the boy's face. Bumblebee spat a low hissing squeal from his damaged vocalizer and turned to carry his charge out of the Medbay.

Ratchet did not need his Prime's soft admonishment over a private com or Angelique's soft…" Way to go asshole!" to feel a small measure of guilt as Optimus carefully set the dead Mars Rover on the berth. He had forgotten that human, in particular, had the ability to get attached to non-sentient things. The medic ran a servo over his dusty face…Slag…he was never going to understand the fleshy little pains in the aft! Growling softly, he gave himself a little shake and watched a cascade of sand sift out to puddle on his clean floor.

"Slag it all!"

He gave Wheeljack a push towards a berth.

"YOU… just sit here and wait…I need to Decon before I can get you cleaned up."

He did not have to say anything to Jazz and Prowl. The gray tinge that overshadowed the tactician's usually pristine black and white proved that the mech had over done things. It was evident in the brittle way he moved. Ratchet was thankful when Jazz quietly coaxed the Praxian over to where two berths that had been put together in a more private corner of the bay. The reason for the double berth was made clear when the saboteur slid in to lay next to Prowl.

Seven days was not enough time to recover from the damage caused by over two years' worth of tortured existence. They had fully expected to find two deactivated mech's when Optimus and the others had finally broken the shields Angelique had layered around the Vault that fateful day. What they had found was Jazz unexpectantly online and quite literally wrapped around his failing Spark mate. When Ratchet had tried to separate the two…Prowls' spark had guttered and very nearly gone out. Prime had gathered the intertwined mechs up and ran for the Medbay where Ironhide and Ratchet had hastily pushed two berths together so both could be worked on at the same time. Jazz had provided life support for his mate until the SiC's spark had gained enough strength to support itself.

Ratchet did not say a word as he watched the silver bot curved himself around his partner…body and spark serving as a shield. There was no way that even this hardened old medic was going to try and separate them.

It only took a couple of breems in the decontamination shower to flush the dust and sand from both his and Optimus's surface joints and seams. The Prime out-vented in relief as the dryer dislodged a bit more and glanced hopefully at his friend.

"That's better, I think the rest will work its way out."

Ratchet snorted and snagged the bot before he could try and escape.

"Eh eh eh…not so fast Prime. I can hear you crunching over the sound of ME crunching. That slag will eat through conduits and circuitry if its left in there."

The medic pushed his leader towards the berth that M36 had been cleaning. The little bot was scuttling around the Mars Rover, long tongues busy flicking in and around the derelict as it cleaned off all the Martian dust. Optimus carefully shifted Opportunity out of his way as he sat down. M36 vibrated its armor plates, creating a disgruntled buzz. Bright yellow optics tracked its unfinished project as it was placed out of reach. Before it could move to follow, Ratchet pinged it then sent his authorization code to activate the medical protocols he had added to its programing. He hid his smile by turning to gather the materials he needed to debride the burnt dermal nanites off Wheeljack's servos. The engineer shivered, rattling his armor as the medic's smile took on an edge that would have made Megatron proud.

"Maintenance drone M36, initiate medical protocols. New directive…deep clean Cybertronian mech... designation… Optimus Prime. Objective…removal of all foreign debris from internal systems."

The Prime's helm snapped around. There was rustle from the human alcove as Angelique sat up to watch. Jazz rolled over and even Prowl's helm popped up from behind his silver form.

M36 clicked to itself, then its armor shifted, body compacting down to a smaller size. Black wheels pulled in so it could deploy eight long jointed legs in their place. The drone rose and turned to stalk towards the big bot. Prime slowly inched his way back from it as it advanced. Ratchet shifted his attention away from the injuries he was working on.

"Don't make me magnetize you to the bench you fragger. Hold still so it can do its job."

The big mech just starred at him with wide optics. Ratchet put down his tools, realizing that Prime had just turned into a huge flight risk.

"What's the problem? Metroplex had thousands of these guys scuttling around in his internals. He never complained. Performing a deep clean on you myself means that I would have to put you in stasis, remove your armor, then literally pull all your systems apart in order to get all the debris out. I have to do this quite often on every mech, especially the frontliners because of this dirt ball we now occupy. It takes a huge amount of time. Something I, as the only medic here, am short on. M36 can do the same job faster, without having to disassemble you and without you having to be in stasis. That's a win win for all of us!"

Wheeljack leaned forward to try and see around the medic and Ratchet casually pushed him back.

Both Jazz and Prowl were now sitting up to watch in morbid fascination.

The Prime's engine made a strange whining noise as M36 tapped at his pede with one of its front legs. Its mouth parts split into four sections and opened to reveal five long tongues coiled within a mechanism that spun with a soft whir.

Ratchet subtly shifted, ready to spring if he had to slap on the bed's magnetic restraint system. Jazz's helm was tilted in such a way that the medic knew the little aft had started a betting pool on when their leader would break and run. The old mech growled at his friend.

"I don't know why you are whining…I'm the only medic here until First Aid can leave the Ark . I haven't had my internals cleaned since we arrived. You can slagging bet that I am looking FORWARD to my turn with that little bug!"

One long appendage slid out of the drone's mouth to probe itself into a transformation seam on Optimus's leg. Plunging deep, it sprayed a light cleaning solvent internally, while a second tongue with a brush like end joined in. These were followed by a third that sounded suspiciously like a vacuum.

At Optimus's rather horrified look…Ratchet just snickered evilly.

"Hehehe…what? Did you think I was slagging kidding about you having a date with a Roomba?"

* * *

I hope to get the next and last chapter of this posted quickly! In it you will find out what becomes of our little rover Opportunity! Please leave some feedback if you are enjoying this tale and if you would like to find out just exactly what happened between Ratchet, Jazz, Prowl, and the Witch… Angelique Grimm., let me know! OH…and there is artwork for Roomba posted on my facebook page…. Wyndewalkers artisan gallery.


	4. Chapter 4

When I started this little story, I had intended on it being maybe 1-2 chapters long. It has developed a life of its own! I had planned on finishing this up in this chapter but was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of weeks ago. Writing has taken a back seat on the priority bus, while I dealt with things pertaining to this. I decided to go ahead and post this part as it is actually at a good chapter break. This way my readers will at least get an update before my surgery on the 14th. I have part of what should be the last chapter written and HOPE to get it done before then also, but I am not going to make any promises. As always, this is a fanfiction…written for the pure joy of storytelling. I make no profit from it. I do not own any of the Transformer verses…I just like to play in them!

* * *

Prime Opportunity Chapter 4

It took every bit of control Optimus had to remain on the medical berth as M36 slowly worked its way up his leg. Having his old friend give him the evil optic while fingering the controls that would magnetize him to the berth wasn't what helped him override the visceral reaction he had to the bug like drone… nor was it the fact that he KNEW that Jazz was quietly recording him in the hopes of having some fun with the whole situation later on. No… what forced him to hold still was the knowing that this was something that could ease some of the burden off Ratchet's war worn shoulders. If that was the case, then Optimus was willing to do his part. The medic was a wise old mech. He knew that the drone looked and moved enough like an Insecticon that many in the ranks, especially the frontliners, would be resistant to it being anywhere near their internal systems. Having their Prime be the first "patient" for the little machine would set a good example for those that would be less enthused with its ministrations. Even so…Ratchet was going to have to fight dirty with more than one mech to get them to comply. M36 would be lucky if a certain set of twin's did not find an imaginative way to deactivate it within the next cyberweek.

Optimus found himself slowly relaxing as those long, dexterous tongues worked their way deep into his internals. Nothing M36 did was painful. Truth be told, it felt rather nice. The drone's weight was negligible as it stalked along his frame. Its touch was surprisingly gentle as it slipped its long tapering digits unto seams and under his armor in order to straighten kinked cables and twisted conduits while it cleaned. When it's brush and vac appendages were finished within a joint or seam, a fourth one would follow to apply a squirt of cool, soothing lubricant. It was not long before the mech realized he was subconsciously lifting and shifting sections of his armor to give the bot easier access. He was almost in recharge when one of those probing tongues scraped lightly across a particularly sensitive cluster of sensor nodes. His flinch was an automatic response to what amounted to being tickled. Unfortunately, the edges of the seam in his armor closed with the motion, pinching down on one of the drones extended tongues. Evidently the little bot had protocols to deal with this sort of predicament because after one sharp tug, it froze. Optimus hastily widened the seam so it could free itself. Even knowing it was a sparkless drone did not make the mech feel any less guilty. That had to have hurt.

"I am sorry little one."

He was more than surprised when it answered him by vibrating its armor together to create a buzzing whine. Optics narrowing to give the bigger bot a good rendition of Ratchet's best stink eye, the drone reeled its tongues in, its four mandibles working as it checked for damages.

The sound pulled Ratchet's attention away from the gel he was applying to Wheeljack's servos. Optimus was more than a little freaked that the look on his friend's face was an eerie match to the one the drone was giving him. Ratchet stabbed a digit in his direction.

"AH…SEE! THAT is why I keep telling you I don't want or need a human assistant. If that had been fleshy fingers you would have just pinched them clean OFF! Not only would I be dealing with a screaming human, but you would have its organic soup all up inside your systems."

The medic was not the only mech present who shuddered at the thought. There was a quiet snort that sounded suspiciously like laughter from the human ward. Ratchet's engine revved as he snapped.

"Laugh it up squishy…you would not be the one cleaning up the slagging mess!"

There was another quiet snort from the bed and a hand slowly rose…one digit raised.

Optimus hastily sat up, ignoring the slight sting as M36 locked its pedes onto his armor, but was too far away this time to intervene between the two. Thankfully Wheeljack had the presence of mind to make a grab for the wrench that suddenly appeared in the medic's servo.

"WHOA there…Doc, splatter alert!"

Luckily, Ratchet froze before he could follow through with his intended throw. Pulling in a deep intake of air… the old mech held it for a moment in complete silence then vented it out in a heated blast. He throttled back his engine with an odd choking sound, then he gave the engineer's gel coated servo an apologetic look before dropping his weapon.

"DON'T be touching things for a few breems, Jack… I need that gel to stay undisturbed long enough for the nanites to integrate."

Optimus released his own held vent and flashed a warning look in the human's direction. He did not know why the woman insisted on aggravating his old friend, but experience had taught the Prime that there was no way this was going to end well. His vent stuttered when Angelique sat up and calmly held his stern gaze, something few of his Autobots could do when it was backed by the Matrix. For a moment, the shadowy impression of branch like horns formed around the witch's pale face and her dark, dark eyes were lit from within by flickers of dancing green. Something ancient stirred, looking back at him in subdued amusement. It nodded his direction in a subtle sign of respect before fading back into Angelique's solemn visage.

A soft rasping burr drew his attention down to where the medical drone was clamped to his frame. Unfortunately, the sound also attracted someone else's attention. This time, Wheeljack was wise enough to not interfere with Ratchet and the resulting wrench made a good-sized dent in one of Optimus's shoulder pauldrons.

"Lay your aft back down Prime and let the slagging drone finish its job."

M36 made a strange whining buzz and scurried up to probe the damage with one of its long-digited servos. It shot the medic a dirty look before it reached underneath and popped the dent back out. Pulling back, it surveyed the repair, clicking happily as Optimus settled back on the berth. One of its servos gave his shoulder a couple soft pats, then it slid its tongues into the seam to continue its cleaning.

Wheeljack had risen to leave but stopped to watch the whole interaction with wide optics.

"Ratchet… have you been uploading personality protocols into that thing?"

The medic flinched and suddenly looked…shifty.

"That would be unethical Wheeljack. It's a sparkless drone. All I uploaded were a few medical protocols…nothing more".

* * *

It was much later when the Engineer quietly let himself back into the Medbay. Optimus had been released to rest in his own quarters, as had Jazz and Prowl. With the Medbay empty of critical care patients, Wheeljack had hoped to find that Ratchet had retired to his quarters as well to get some much-needed recharge, but he was not surprised to find his friend seated at one of the berths with the little human made drone resting in front of him. There were several tools laid out in front of the medic, along with two empty high-grade containers. Those, along with the half full one, that rested in one of the mech's capable servos made it obvious that the tools were not currently in use. It was more than a little disturbing that his friend did not alert to the fact that the wrecker was there. Worse, he did not seem to notice that the Medbay's last occupant was not resting as she should have been. Angelique was sitting cross-legged on her bed silently watching the old mech drink himself senseless. Wheeljack lightly brushed the medic's energy field with his own and flinched at the roiling mess of angst, guilt and sorrow that permeated it. He revved his engine lightly, keen optics noting the other's surprised twitch, as Ratchet realized that he was not alone. A medical scan swept through him as the other turned to look, followed by a tired growl.

"If you aren't bleeding out or missing a limb, Wheeljack, you shouldn't be in my Medbay! What do you need?"

The engineer just looked at his friend while pushing concern, and warm comfort back through their still inter-mingled fields. Ratchet ex-vented a sigh and put the cube of high grade down so he could rub his servos over his face. Then he flicked a couple of digits towards the little bot sitting in front of him.

"I was going to see if I could repair this…maybe make it into another medical drone to handle some of the small work that is difficult for larger digits."

Wheeljack kept his field warm and comforting, more than a little concerned by the fact that his friend's usually steady servos were shaking. Ratchet gently brushed a digit over one of the Rover's damaged solar panels.

"It's so very small… too much like a sparkling. I just can't…"

Wheeljack reached out and caught his friend's servo, pulling it up against his chest plate to hold against his thrumming spark.

"It's not your fault you couldn't save them Ratchet… Primus knows you tried… we all did."

The medic just shrugged and pulled his servo free.

"With the Allspark destroyed, they were the last of our young. I am a medic…Jack… supposedly one of the best. I did everything I could to save them and it wasn't enough…" Haunted blue optics turned to catch and hold the Wrecker's.

"Why wasn't it enough?"

Wheeljack reached out and gently pulled Ratchet's helm forward until it rested in that same spot over the engineer's spark.

"Only Primus knows mech. Sometimes our best falls short. You need to stop beating yourself up over that and place the blame for the destruction of the Youngling Sector squarely where it belongs…on Megatron's helm."

It was testament to the medic's state of mind, that although he nodded, he did not lift his helm away from the soothing sound of his friend's spark. Wheeljack carefully reached over and used a couple of digits to peel fried wiring away from Opportunity's motionless frame.

"Slag it Ratch… I think you might have fried this things innards when you tried to jump start it. Cybertronian tech and human hardware just don't play well together."

The wrecker hid a smile when his friend snorted against his chest. Then he scooped up the medic's unfinished cube of high grade and pressed it into a unresistant servo.

"Why don't you finish this and let me help get your aft to a recharge berth? You can have Roomba cart the little mech down to my lab. I don't mind taking a crack at rebuilding her into something useful."

Ratchet gave a slight nod before pulling away to finish what was in his cube. His optics shuttered for a moment and M36 whirred to life, trundling out from the corner where it had been plugged in to recharge. It was already loading the Rover onto its cargo platform as Wheeljack helped his friend leave the Medbay. Forgotten in the shadows, ancient flickering green eyes watched them leave…then shifted to watch the drone as it finished securing its load and stalked towards the door.

* * *

Soooo…Little Opportunity is finally in the best place possible for a stellar rebuild…or maybe the worse, with Wheeljack's track record…hehehehe. Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

I know that I said that this would be the last chapter…but since it was getting a little long….and since you all have been so patient while I deal with surgery and the following chemotherapy, I decided to go ahead and split this one in half and post. As always, this is a fan fiction. I own none of the Transformer saga or its characters. I am only playing in their world.

* * *

A Prime Opportunity Ch. 5

"Roomba, rotate the subject three point six degrees to the right."

M36 muttered to itself as it followed Wheeljack's instructions, smoothly turning to give the engineer easier access to several complex circuit boards within the little Mars Rover's open processor. Wheeljack couldn't help but smile at how much the drone's "complaining" reminded him of the way Ratchet grumbled and groused as he worked. Technically, Roomba was assigned to Medbay. It should have deactivated permanently once it had travelled past its operational parameters when the Ark had carried it away from Metroplex. Instead…it had gone into a deep stasis. Then, when it could not re-establish the connection to its City-former when it re-booted for the first time after being found, it had imprinted on Ratchet. The old medic was anything but wasteful and he had adjusted and tweaked the little bot's programming so it could be of use. Wheeljack was just beginning to appreciate the old mech's efforts. Having to switch his digits to the fine tools he was using then back in order to shift the Rover around would have been a total pain in his aft. Having the Rover sitting on M36's cargo platform so that it could turn and adjust the little machine while he worked was something he could get used to. When he was done rebuilding the human made machine, the engineer fully intended to "forget" to return Roomba to Medbay for as long as possible. Not only could he find many uses for the little drone, its odd personality quirks had him curious about what coding his friend had added to the drone's CPU. Ratchet was not a hacker in the same sense as Soundwave or Jazz, but he was damned good at rewriting code. He had to be…it was the only way he had been able circumnavigate his medical ethics protocols when called upon to harm or kill other mechs during battle. Most frontline medics eventually went insane because of the conflicts this created within their processors…it was one of the reasons so few of them remained. Wheeljack did not doubt that Ratchet would have no problem disregarding long held rules about what could or could not be added to a drones programming if he felt it would be beneficial to the bots he cared for.

Humming to himself, the ex-wrecker shifted another of his digits into a delicate solder iron.

"Roomba, adjust angle of subject to twenty-two point five degrees."

This time…the drone hummed softly to itself instead of muttering as it complied. Wheeljack was concentrating intently on his work, optics spun down to their highest definition, his digits buried deep inside the Rover's helm and did not notice the change. He also did not notice the small form that quietly let herself into his lab. The engineer might have been oblivious, but his were not the only optics in the room. M36 watched as the female made her way up to the catwalk that allowed humans to observe and interact with Wheeljack during the few times it was considered relatively "safe" for them to be in his lab. The drone rattled its armor, creating a rather disgruntled buzz, as safety protocols that Ratchet had installed booted up. If the cranky medic had his way, humans would NEVER be allowed inside the accident-prone inventor's lair. Reprogramming M36 to provide some modicum of watchfulness when it was present, was the old mech's insurance policy when he could not be around himself to slap some sense into his absent-minded friend!

The woman settled herself against the rails and watched for a while… then hummed softly, trying to get the working mech's attention without startling him. M36 vibrated his armor, mimicking her soft hum. When that did not work, the drone tightened the vibration changing the hum to a keening moan, that rose, then ended on a circuit twinging pitch. Wheeljack flinched, then swore as his welder slid, neatly cutting through a tiny wire he had just installed.

"Slag it all Roomba!"

M36 made what sounded suspiciously like a rather rude raspberry and carefully let go of the Rover with one front servo so it could point up to the lab's other occupant. The witch watched the interaction with interest.

The engineer looked up, blinking a couple of times as he recalibrated his optics.

"What…OH…. Angel…slag! Is it that time already?"

The woman flinched a little at the shortening of her name but smiled.

"It's okay Wheelack…I came by a little early."

One long fingered hand gestured gracefully towards the inventor's project.

"Is that the Mar's Rover?"

The mech grinned.

"Yeah… for some reason Ratchet said I couldn't work on anything that might go "BOOM" within twelve hours of Sam and you being in here…so I was making some modifications to the wee thing. I Figured that would be safe enough."

The Ex-Wrecker had converted the instruments he had been using back to digits. He grinned and flung them wide when he said BOOM…good naturedly poking fun at his rather explosive reputation. He lifted one servo, palm up in invitation.

"Ya wanna come down and see what I am playing with?"

Angelique's answer was to carefully step onto the offered platform, grasping one strong digit for balance as the mech slowly lowered her to the top of his workstation. M36 shifted slightly, allowing the woman to use one of its limbs as a step up so she could get a close look at the partially dismantled machine.

Converting his digits back to his small instruments Wheeljack snipped the wire he had accidently burned through so that he could replace it. Since his optics were focused on the innards of the Rover's processor he did not look away as he asked,

"Have you met Roller?"

Angelique nodded.

"That is the mech that is a part of Optimus…right?"

The Engineer paused in what he was doing to glance over.

"Yes…and no. Roller is more drone than mech…it is a part of Optimus and although it has some autonomy, it operates more like M36 here. If, Primus forbid, something was to happen to Optimus…Roller would cease to function."

Blue optics refocused to watch the woman reach up to run a careful hand over the Rover's new fore limbs. What had once been a single clumsy pinching mechanism used for picking up samples, had been reconfigured into twin sets of slender limbs ending in long digited, almost elegant looking servos. The engineer waited for the woman's fragile hands to be out of the way before he manually triggered a transformation sequence. With a series of smooth clicks and whirs…the long digits transformed into a variety of sleek, delicate surgical instruments… complete with razor sharp scalpels and several long gleaming needles. Both ignored the little twitch that rattled through M36, and its soft growl at having the human's soft form so close to something that sharp.

Angelique's dark eyes met Wheeljack's as a small knowing smile lifted one side of her mouth.

"You are making something for that obnoxious old medic…. aren't you?"

One of the engineer's talented servos lifted away from what he was doing inside the Rover's helm to rub nervously at the back of his neck plates. He remembered to transform his digits just in time to not scorch one of his sensory filiels. The light bars on the sides of his face lit up in a blush as he hastily broke her gaze.

"Ratchet has had to transport human casualties on more than one occasion. He has found that providing care whilst he is moving at high speeds in alt form is problematic. It takes a lot of processing power to operate one of our solid light holoforms. The medical one takes even more than most as it must perform very delicate procedures that take skill and dexterity. Ratchet is in a field of his own as a medic and he is damned good transporting the injured to safety. It's when he splits his concentration between the two that there are problems. Last time…one of our human's did not make it because Ratchet had to choose between operating out in the field or getting the injured to our trauma center within what you human's call the "golden hour". Everyone here understands that it was an impossible choice but Ratchet still blames himself. I hate to see him hurting that way, so I decided that with some upgrades and modifications, Oppy here might be able to work as a remote assistant when time is of the essence. Ratchet would be able to oversee and control what it was doing inside his alt form while still in transit. So… to answer your question…. Yes…I am making a surgical assistant for that obnoxious, old medic!"

The ex-wrecker was still blushing when he refocused back on the delicate work he was doing. The woman watched him, her companionable silence allowing him to settle back into a routine. Because of this, her next comment had him freezing in shocked surprise.

"Wheeljack… can you tell me what happened to the Youngling Sector on Cybertron?"

The engineer froze. For a moment, the only sound in the lab was the soft whirr as he reset his optics several times before looking down at her.

Wheeljack was thankful that his mask hid most of the expression that had to twist his scarred features at this painful request, but the woman still flinched as she caught the expression in his optics. Her soft voice was underscored by an inhuman rumbling timbre that caught and held the mech's attention.

"I am sorry. Just so you know, it is not me that is asking."

The ex-Wrecker was going to refuse, but the black, lightening shot,_ ANCIENT_ eyes that held and trapped his in their knowing gaze stopped him before the denial could leave his intake.

Taking a deep vent, he set his tools down and clenched his servos to hide their slight tremble.

"Look…neither side in this war has clean servos. I think when the council ordered the destruction of Vos is when Optimus finally accepted that he was fighting for the wrong side in this. Up until then, the boss bot thought that he could still bring about change without disbanding the government and without an all-out war. When the Decepticons took out the Senate…there were a lot of us who thought that maybe, just maybe, the Prime still had a chance of negotiating a cease fire. After all, Megatron started all this as a protest of the council's corrupt rule and now it was gone. Even when Praxus was destroyed, everyone held on to hope that with the Seeker's need for retribution for Vos satisfied… Megatron would stand down and come to the bargaining table. Ya got to understand that No bot…not even Prowl, could have predicted that he was evil enough to target sparklings. NO ONE ever expected that Megatron would stoop that low. How he managed to force the seekers into going along with it…. that's anybot's guess."

The engineer gave a humorless snort. "Pit, maybe that's why Starscream is such a crazy aft now. He used to be a fragging good scientist…one of the best!"

The engineer raised a shaky servo to cover his optics as he bowed his helm.

"It's our fault…we didn't have them protected. Yeah…there was a unit there, mostly to make sure the youngsters were getting the supplies they needed. They managed to get warning to Central command, but it was way too late. The whole unit was pretty much wiped out in the seeker's first strafing run. By the time we managed to deploy, there was nothing left but smoking rubble."

Wheeljack shuttered his optics and keened softly, remembering the smoke, the smell of spilled energon and the spark shattering sight of all those broken, tiny frames. He choked off the sound when the woman did something that was impossible for most humans. She reached out with what could only be an EM field, brushed it lightly against his own and sent of pulse of sorrow and compassion underscored by a cold, cold fury. The mech froze, more from surprise than anything, then carefully intermingled the edge of his own field with hers, accepting the comfort she offered and matching her anger with his own.

"We searched the rubble for a deca-cycle. Of the few we managed to pull out still online…Ratchet and his team were only able to save one. I watched a part of my old friend die when the search was finally called off. Unless some of the bots who escaped Cybertron managed to take sparklings with them…they were our last. Spark to spark creation was rare even before the war. I have not heard of any new sparks created that way in a very long time. Without the All Spark…."

The Engineer gave a little shrug of one shoulder, not willing to put into words what every Autobot knew.

"WHAT… THE… FUCK!? Oh my God…. This is my fault. I doomed you all!"

Both Wheeljack and Angelique spun around at this almost scream.

"FRAG!"

This was muttered under Wheeljack's breath as he realized that Sam had walked in at the last of their conversation. There was a REASON Optimus had not wanted the boy to know how much losing the All Spark had cost them. Bumblebee, who had walked in behind the boy, shot the engineer an incredibly dirty look and scooped up the human before he could fall to his knees. Holding the sobbing boy close to his spark, he rumbled his engine softly in an attempt to calm his charge. When that did not work, he carefully deposited Sam next to the only other human in the room, hoping she knew what to do. The witch shot the scout her own dirty look, then carefully gathered the boy up so that he could bury his face in her shoulder. Wheeljack bent over so his intake was close to the human's ear. He brushed the back of the teenager's neck with a careful digit before almost whispering.

"None of this is your fault Sam. That lies squarely on one bot's head…and one day he will pay for it. If you hadn't pushed the All Spark into Megatron's spark…Optimus would have pushed it into his own. Primus knows what would have happened if we had lost him along with it. It's bad enough we lost Jazz during that fight."

Sam hiccupped…

" Jazz…!" He looked up into the dark eyes of the woman who was hugging him. "You brought Jazz back…maybe you could…"

Angelique shook her head before the boy could get his hopes up.

"With Jazz, we brought an already formed willing spark back from the Well. That is something entirely different than creating a new soul… The entity I host is very powerful, but that is beyond even her strength. I am sorry!"

Wheeljack lightly poked Sam in the ribs.

"That's where I come in…did ya bring it Bumblebee?"

The scout gave a derisive blrrt then pulled something out of his subspace. With a small flourish, he deposited a small shard of alien metal into Sam's hand.

The teenager flinched and almost dropped it, remembering the feral things that had been created the LAST time he held a piece of the All Spark.

Wheeljack grinned behind his mask.

"That fragment isn't strong enough to create a spark by itself. What it created were mindless drones. I was thinking maybe Angel here can provide it with a boost!"

Angelique's fine eyebrows rose almost to her hairline as she shot the engineer an incredulous look.

"That's asking a lot Wheeljack. Bringing Jazz back was skirting the line when it comes to what I can and can't do. Only the fact that it was MY gift to give allowed me to bypass Gia's non-interference directives.

Sam disentangled himself from her hold and gave the witch his best sad puppy dog eyes. Bumblebee joined him; his large blue optics seemingly made for it. Wheeljack could not stop himself from snickering at the panicked look that came over the woman's face. Bumblebee had long perfected that particular look. No Autobot could resist it and the woman, no matter her eldritch powers, had no defense against it.

"Oh…come ON! Both of you…don't…FINE. Hold on a second."

Angelique pushed Sam away. By her half-closed eyes and tilted head, Wheeljack knew the woman was having a conversation with the beings that shared space with her.

No one noticed when M-36 shifted beside them…moving an infinitesimal step closer to the humans. Its multifaceted sensors noted the increase of energy in the female's unusual EM field and the answering pulse that emitted from the male. Guardian protocols that Ratchet had coded into the drone shifted to red alert status.

Angelique straightened, and gave herself a little shake.

"Okay, Gia is willing to at least look at it…"

At their hopeful looks, she lifted a long-fingered hand in warning.

"SHE is willing to try…but is making no promises. There are limits to what she is allowed to do."

Bumblebee hooted and did a little dance. Sam just grinned and reached out to hand the shard over.

Whether or not Angelique meant to take it or was moving to push it away was a mote point. The shard pulsed, flashing to life the moment the witch's flesh touched it. The power that dwelled quiescent within her flared in answer. Sam tried to shout and pull his hand away, but it was too late.

M-36 shrilled a warning as the simmering energy within the boy surged. The drone reacted, yanking the human onto its cargo platform and slamming its blast shields up as all three powerful energies collided, and the lab disintegrated under the force of the resulting explosion.

* * *

CLIFFHANGER… I will work very hard at getting the last chapter to this written and up in a timely manner. As always, your feedback is appreciated! I apologize if I missed answering any reviews. Chemo gives me brain fog…I hope it has not affected the quality of my writing…let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

When I first started this little story about our little Mars Rover, Opportunity, I figured it would be a chapter at most. Yet, here we are at the sixth and final chapter. I wrote this with the intention of working it into a much larger tale eventually. This is a good spot to leave this bit of the tale…but there is much more floating around in my head. I just need to get over to the Star Trek fandom and finish my story, "Where Dragons Dwell" before my fans there hunt me down! If you ARE interested in reading more about Angelique, and the rest of the characters in this story…. let me know. It will give me incentive to sit down and get it started from the very beginning. As always, I own none of the Transformer franchise. This is a for fun fanfiction, I make no profit from it.

* * *

A Prime Opportunity Final chapter

Ratchet was just finishing up some maintenance work on Ironhide's knee joint when he received the first alert as M36's Guardian protocols booted up. His agile digits paused in what they were doing as he pinged the drone and received notification that a human had entered Wheeljack's lair. The medic was already aware that Sam and Angelique were expected and that Wheeljack had promised to keep anything explosive under wraps for at least twelve hours before their arrival, this still did not stop his systems from running a little hot. Swearing under his breath helped. Ignoring his patient' s rather apprehensive look, Ratchet carefully tightened the big mech's aging support struts.

"You know I am going to have to strip these out and install new ones one of these days Ironhide. I am not going to be able to tighten these much more without weakening them to the point of breaking under stress. Then where would you be, flat on your aft, probably in the middle of a fire fight. Eh…don't expect me to rush to your rescue just because you were to much of a wimp to let me put you out and do a complete overhaul when it was needed!"

The other mech opened his intake to answer. But whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the red alert M36 shrilled into Ratchet's com link followed almost instantaneously by a blast that rocked the Medbay to its foundations.

Ironhide jerked up off the med berth, disregarding the medic's low growl to stay put.

"What the frag was that?"

Ratchet answered with one word.

"Wheeljack!"

The medic had already scooped up his emergency kit and was heading for the bay doors as he pinged his friend in hopes that the explosion was not as bad as it sounded. When he did not get an answer, his fervent swearing along with the loud WHOOP of a medic's sirens, cleared the corridor ahead of him as he ran towards the labs. Ironhide, disregarding his orders completely, limped along in his wake.

Both slid to a stop at the sight of the warped and bowed blast doors that greeted their optics when they arrived. Ratchet's cursing stopped when the doors did not respond to his medical override codes. In silence, both mechs pushed their digits into the crack created by the warp and started pulling. They did not make much progress until a larger pair of servos appeared as Optimus Prime arrived and pit his greater strength against the jammed metal. With a growling creak, the doors parted revealing a scene that could have come straight from the Pit. Acrid smoke rolled out as green lightening continued to crackle and arc across metal that was torn and twisted. Ratchet started to rush in only to be snatched back by Prowl who had just arrived on the scene.

"WAIT, Ratchet…that will fry you down to your last circuit."

The medic struggled with the smaller bot…

"What in the pit do you think it's doing to Wheeljack…and Frag me…is that Bumblebee? Let me go, I am built to take it."

Prowl managed to mech handle the struggling medic over to Jazz, who had followed in his wake.

Ratchet continued to struggle then stilled as Jazz almost purred in his audio…

"Donna make me put ya down again Doc bot!"

The medic practically froze as Prowl's growl joined in…

"This time, I will help him Ratchet. Just be still and give me a moment…please."

A frantic glance at Optimus was no help. The Prime's visage was stern as he lifted a hand towards his old friend and just shook his head.

Prowl moved to just inside the doorway before calling out.

"Angelique… We can't get in to help until you get these discharges under control. Please answer if you can you hear me?"

There was a crash of metal from inside, followed by a soft curse.

"Damn it that hurts! Hang on Prowl… This is a lot of energy to redistribute…

Ratchet growled as he jerked against the Spy Masters firm hold.

"Frag me…Ya THINK!"

He was answered by a pulse of lurid green as Angel's temper flared.

"HEY…this time, it wasn't my fault…just give me another minute."

After a few seconds the eldritch energy coalesced over a corner of the bay then contracted down into a sphere before sinking to be absorbed by a small form that shakily stood up.

"Got it…you can come in now."

Ratchet pushed away from Jazz and hurried into what was left of the lab.

"Bout slagging time!"

The medic was already scanning Wheeljack and Bumblebee as both bots struggled to sit up. Other than a few dents and slashes, that bled small amounts of energon, the two seemed little worse for wear.

Wheeljack lifted a servo at the look on his friend's face.

"HEY…this time it wasn't my fault!"

Ratchet snorted in disbelief, then turned his scanners on the woman only to flinch and growl as she bounced it back at him.

"That's rude, Ratchet! I am okay…. I managed to get a shield up before all hell broke loose. We need to find Sam though; he was at the epicenter…I could not protect him!"

A sudden silence fell as all the mechs fanned out, some putting out small residual fires, some lifting various large pieces of scrap and the occasional lab berth, secretly hoping NOT to find their young friend fried or squashed underneath one of them.

* * *

_External sensors…. initiating at 87%_

_Internal sensors… initiating at 93 %_

_Cargo bay…operating within safe parameters._

_Operating systems… initiating…error… error… error…_

M36 jolted online as its CPU systematically rebooted. Confusion and panic, two things it had never had to deal with before almost sent it back into an emergency shutdown…but the fragile forms huddled within the shelter of its blast shields negated that sequence. The protective protocols that Ratchet had installed, synced smoothly into new coding that even now continued to overwrite the basic operating core of the drone. These allowed it to override an almost instinctive need to lash out in reaction to thoughts and functions it had not been designed to deal with. Instead…it pulled in a couple of deep vents in order to cool its overheating systems and more important, to make sure adequate, filtered atmosphere was being maintained in its cargo hold. Internal scans showed that other than some small damage from the initial blast, all its systems were functioning well within their operating norms, as were those of the occupants held within its blast shields. One of those occupants sent a weak pulse of recognition in response to the drone's scan… back along a bond that should not exist. M36 pulsed back comfort, layered with a reassurance it did not feel as some of the small one's fear and confusion bled through the link. Its external scans showed major damage to the area that they resided in along with massive energy discharges that still crawled and sparked from surface to surface. As these dissipated, several large moving forms appeared that could be considered threats. Moving carefully, M36 released its digits from where they had clamped into the lab berth surface and extended its legs to push the heavy table away so it could right itself. Once upright…it scuttled past one of the larger mechs so it could back itself into the nearest defendable corner.

* * *

Ratchet was finding it hard to keep old feelings at bay as they desperately looked for their human friend. No one wanted to say it, but if Sam had been at the center of the explosion…there was a good chance there was nothing left of him to find. He was not picking up any human on his scans. Well, no FULL human. Angelique did not count. Something impinged upon his EM field and brushed against his leg as it scuttled past. The medic could not control his subsequent flinch, you never knew what you would find in the mad scientist's lair. He muttered a soft curse as his optics settled on the rather battered form of M36. He swallowed the next curse as the little medical drone backed itself into a corner and took up a position that could only be interpreted as defensive. Blinking his optics, the old mech took a second to process the fact that his field had been brushed by another as the drone shot past him. It had been filled with pain, panic, and oddly, determination. That was impossible…drones did not have EM fields. Without thinking, Ratchet ran a quick diagnostic scan on it and staggered back at the results.

Ironhide saw this and immediately stepped in front of his CMO, both cannons spinning up as they targeted the possible threat. The drone tightened its impressive blast armor down but not before vibrating it to create a sensor shattering screech. Every bot in the room winced, servos going up in a useless attempt to protect sensitive hearing.

"ARGH…and I thought Starscream was bad!"

True to his military training, Ironhide had kept his weapons rock steady. As a result, a thin stream of energon now dripped out of both his audials.

"Ya little slagging glitch…I'm gonna blow you into next…"

Ratchet hastily got between him and his target.

"NO…DON' T HURT IT!"

At the weapon's specialists confused look, the medic turned and pointed toward the drone.

"I am picking up spark energy from it."

Optimus moved forward cautiously.

"Ratchet…are you saying M36 has a spark?"

The CMO shook his helm.

"Not exactly. It's a very weak dispersed signature. I am not sure what it is."

He lifted a digit to tap the side of his helm.

"Although it is familiar… I just can't seem to recall where I have seen something like this before."

Ironside moved so he had a clear shot at the drone.

"Spark or no spark…if it sounds off like that again, Ima shooting…"

The weapons specialist was interrupted by loud thumping and screaming which seemed to come from INSIDE the drone. It was only his quick reflexes overrode the command to fire as he recognized Sam's voice.

"LET ME OUT…. LET ME OUT! Hey…there is something moving in here…WHAT? Is that you Oppy?" There was a slight pause, and a faint clicking sound…then… "OH FUCK ME…. LET ME OUT! Holy SHIT…are those NEEDLES? It's got fucking NEEDLES! Someone get me the hell outta here!"

More weapons powered up and centered themselves on the hapless drone.

* * *

Sam was not sure what had happened. He remembered reaching towards Angelique with the shard, then screaming as his body was filled with a white-hot fire. Powerful tentacles had wrapped around his ribs and YANKED as the fire exited his hand and seemed to jump towards the startled woman. One of the THINGS that resided within her reacted…violently. The very air between him and the witch exploded. The boy's last thought was this was going to be how it all ended, after everything he had been through with the Autobots, he was going to be crispy crittered in Wheeljack's lab like an over-cooked corndog! He had the vague impression of gleaming metal plates slamming up between him and the incoming hell…then nothing until he woke up in total darkness. Scrabbling around, the boy managed to get himself sitting up with a smooth, curved surface at his back. Other than a throbbing headache, aching ribs, and several other bruised areas, it did not feel like he had broken anything. Carefully feeling along the wall as it curved over his head gave Sam the first clue as to where he was. When his wandering fingers brushed up against the metal form his one side was pressed against in the tight quarters, he figured it out. He was inside M36 rather crowded cargo bay. The drone must have pulled him in before the worst of the explosion hit.

Well…this wasn't too bad then. M36 had armor that was designed to handle an immense amount of heat and stress. He was probably a lot safer here than out in the lab. Sam had just finished this thought when the metal strut he was pressed against slowly, and subtly shifted away from him. He reached out blindly to touch it then snatched his hand back when he realized it was WARM. The boy almost screamed when whatever it was, snatched the limb away from his touch almost as fast.

"LET ME OUT…. LET ME OUT! Hey…there is something moving in here…WHAT? Is that you Oppy?"

Stifling a whimper, Sam dug through his pockets, praying his phone was not broken. Sighing in relief, he held it up in a shaking hand and activated its flashlight. That relief disappeared as what HAD been the Mars Rover, scuttled as far away as it could, then turned to face him. Four large emerald green optics framed by a triangular face froze the boy in place as its almost insect like form rose on four spindly legs. The other four limbs lifted like arms into what could only be a defensive posture. It clicked at him. Sam lifted his other hand, in hopes of calming the situation only to hear the sudden sound of transformation. The long delicate digits on each of its servos shifted. Holy CRAP…remembering just how badly the last time the shard had brought man-made machines to life had gone, Sam blinked and sucked in a breath at what his light revealed had replaced them. Then he started screaming.

"OH FUCK ME…. LET ME OUT! Holy SHIT…are those NEEDLES? It's got fucking NEEDLES! Someone get me the hell outta here!"

* * *

_Internal sensors… initiating at 93 %_

_External sensors…initiating at 98 %_

_Operating systems… initiating…error… error… error…_

_CPU rebooting… initiating…. Error… error…error…_

It came to awareness in darkness. This seemed right as it could remember sinking into its final sleep in the same stygian night. But there was no evidence of the weak sun that charged its failing solar panels so it should not have rebooted. This was confusing, as were the repeated errors that scrolled across its H.U.D that it did not understand. This confusion was not something it had been programmed to deal with. It should not be able to "feel" anything. To make matters worse… something moved in the darkness… and the little mech suddenly realized that it could also experience fear! It was not alone. Shifting away from the movement and the slight warm touch on one of its appendages… what used to be the Mars Rover huddled as far away from the other as it could in the crowded space, in hopes of maybe hiding from it. Hope…that should not exist within it either. It was enough to make its processors ache. It shuddered as another presence made itself known. But this one did not offer fear. It pulsed comfort and strength through a bond that the little one had not been aware of. This eased some of the pain and the fear became less overwhelming giving the little one courage as a sudden light lit the darkness. As its four optics focused in on the threat, it reacted instinctively raising up and spreading its appendages to make itself look bigger. This triggered an automated reaction, and with a whirring sound its delicate digits retracted and were replaced by implements that could be used for defense… even though its coding screamed that this was not the use they were designed for. Sensors and scanners came online and the mech used them along with its optics to gain the other's identity.

_Target identified…. ORGANIC…._

The little machine twitched as its need to defend itself came into direct conflict with its newly acquired coding.

_Physical damage present! Repair…heal…protect… protect… protect…_

The Rover vibrated what had once been its solar panels together, producing a discordant whine as it tried to bring the conflict under control. It did not know how to fix this, and it HURT! Clicking in pain and confusion, it felt along the weak bond, plaintively asking for help; only to find that the other was also under threat. Something inside the little bot shifted into place. The need to protect suddenly overrode the need to defend. The other acknowledged and agreed, throwing its end of their link wide open. The bond between them suddenly pulled tight, strengthened and then coalesced into…ONE.

* * *

Ratchet found himself in the very unenviable position of being between M36 and enough firepower to level a small city. Luckily, a large blue and red form shifted in beside him as their Prime tried to defuse the situation.

"Stand Down Autobots… Do not fire…you might harm Sam!"

Prowl, Jazz, and Bumblebee reacted immediately, shifting their weapons to point at the ceiling but NOT powering them down or putting them away.

Wheeljack gave both Ratchet and his leader a dirty look. He did what he always did when his superiors orders were just asinine, he ignored them. His weapon never wavered. So far, no one had been seriously hurt, but… this was HIS lab! Like HELL if he was standing down. After all, shady shit happened around him… ALL… OF… THE… TIME! This time, he was NOT taking the blame if the maintenance drone went all postal on them!

Ironhide shifted until he had a clear shot…again.

"REALLY Prime, are ya slagging kidding me? What… the… frag! Do ya do slag like this on PURPOSE? You are KILLING me…. just killing me! Please step away from the threatening, it might blow yer aft through the wall, heavily armored, might be a killer drone; just in case I have to blow ITS ugly aft through the wall! YES, I am talking to you too, RATCHET! And yes…I am aware Sam is in there. A head shot shouldn't hurt the boy."

Both Prime and the CMO opened their intakes to argue, then froze, optics widening at the unmistakable sound of something triggering a transformation sequence behind them.

Ironhide's optics narrowed, and his cannons spun, cycling up hot in preparation to being fired!

"OH, YOU HAVE TO BE FRAGGING KIDDING ME!"

Because of where the weapon's specialist had moved, he was a lot closer to the drone than anyone else in the lab. For a split second the insecticon looking mech that now crouched in its place froze… its weird green optics holding his own. What felt like a medical scan buzzed his systems right before the thing lunged at him. With movements almost too fast to follow, its four scythe like front limbs darted out, sliding into the seams in the armor at his bad knee. The blades were so sharp that all he felt was a stinging sensation as they sliced through the weakened struts that Ratchet had been repairing. Before his pain receptors even registered the damage, the joint buckled and Ironhide went down with a crash. Cursing, the big mech rolled as he tried to bring his cannons back on target while evading those slashing blades. There was a flash of green and white as Ratchet put his servos at risk trying to pry it off. The thing was small and fast though, and it struck unerringly into gaps in Ironhide's armor that he was not even aware he had. By the time the medic managed to pull it off and toss it away, the weapons specialist had several stinging wounds that dripped a steady stream of blue down his black plating. The drone scuttled back into its corner and hissed through its vents. It rose on four long leg to its full ten-foot height and spread those scythe-like arms in a defensive posture. Wing like armor lifted and fanned out wide at its slim waist most likely to protect fragile looking crystalline structures that curved around the top of its abdomen, like shields. Pushing himself up on one knee, the weapons specialist brought his cannons up but found his aim blocked by his CMO.

"DON"T Ironhide….it's not a drone anymore …that mech has a SPARK!"

Growling, the bigger mech tried to shove his old friend's arm aside.

"Ah don't slagging CARE… Just means the fragging thing can DIE!"

Not for the first time in their long acquaintance, he found his muscle lacking when pitted against the CMO's freakish enhanced strength. Ratchet's arm did not budge. Medics were built with the ability to take down most mech's in an emergency, even those who were considerably larger than them. Most of the Autobots, and more than a few Decepticons, had been reminded of this at least once.

Ironhide cursed and tried to move to where he could bring his targeting back online. The curse was choked off as a plasma bolt cut through the air uncomfortably close to his helm. Wheeljack had finally managed to shift himself into a position that he had a helm shot. Curses rang out in both English and Cybertronian as they all flinched…covering their optics when the shot hit something well before the mech and blinding green energy flashed again in the lab.

Everybot in the room froze as their vision cleared. Angelique had moved beside Ratchet. The witch stood in a deceptively relaxed stance; one long finger hand lifted… the other casually rolling a brilliant ball of green lighting above its palm. In the air above and around the woman the ghostly image of something large stirred. Massive ethereal wings lifted, fanning the smoke in the air into disturbing shapes and a heavily armored head turned with lifted lips to pin them all with an ancient, ANGRY glare.

Its feral, toothy smile was mirrored by Angelique as she casually bounced her ball lightly on her fingertips.

"I think you need to listen to Ratchet… We are not trying to interfere here, but REAPER has a real problem with harming childr… YIPE!"

This impressive and rather frightening tableau was abruptly interrupted as a long tentacle lashed out…wrapped around the woman's waist and yanked her back and up behind the new mech's shields. It rattled it's armor in a low threatening growl as the attention in the room shifted back to it.

Prime turned, a thoughtful look on his face as he studied the mech. He shifted to put a servo on Ironhide's shoulder helping the big mech leverage himself up to stand on one leg.

"Back off old friend...I don't think M36 is attacking us…I think it is protecting them!"

As if on cue, a tousled head suddenly poked up over the little mech's wing like shields.

HOLY SHIT… Cannons!"

Eyes wide, It just as suddenly ducked back down behind the shield.

"Jeez Louis Ironhide…. what's with you and always pointing those things at me?!"

Ironhide huffed in relief at the sound of Sam's voice, and his cannons stopped spinning. He did not take them off target though as his optics pinned the drone with a dirty look then swept down to the shimmering trails of energon making its way out of his armor.

"Primus, that thing packs a pit of a sting. M36 My aft! Ah am not calling it that if it's a new spark. The little ones earned a name."

Optimus hid his smile behind his battle mask before retracting it. It was not often that something got the drop on the old battle mech. More than just his physical form had to be smarting a bit. Using his other servo, the Prime caught Ratchet's shoulder, gently pulling the CMO back as he also urged Ironhide to give the small new mech a little more space. He was rewarded by a shift in the other's threat posture as it watched their slight retreat. It made an odd whining sound and tilted its triangular head so it could see the human's tucked behind its shielding while still keeping at least two optics on the other bots in the room.

"I believe that Sting would be an appropriate name, if Ratchet agrees that this is a sparkling."

All optics turned towards the old medic, who tried like hell to ignore the hope he saw there as he ran a quick scan. Without thinking, he pinged the drone through the channels he had originally installed. He could not stop his flinch as the little mech pinged him back, then dumped what could only be a hastily constructed medical file through the link. Ignoring the concerned looks that were cast his way, the medic lifted a servo to pinch his nasal ridge as he worked to isolate the file than sort through the many error messages the once drone was dealing with. It was enough to give him a helm ache…he could not imagine how the poor little mech was feeling. Ratchet did something he very rarely did. He released his field from where he held it tight against his plating, poured as much soothing strength and warm compassion as he could into it then he extended it towards the little bot. It shuddered and made that strange whine again as it responded, its fields full of fear, pain, confusion. Wait…fields…Ratchet drew a deep invent as what he had missed clicked into place. The mech had two fields! They were closely mingled but there were two of them. He had only seen that sort of field mergence on combiners like Impactor and Superion or on occasion with the twins! Primus… He hastily pulled the file back up. Knowing what he was looking for made it easier to find the hidden data tucked within its code. He turned wide optics towards his Prime.

"No, Optimus… That is not a sparkling….it is TWO of them!"

For a moment, all that could be heard in the lab was the occasional drip of fire suppressant and the whoosh of the vents as they struggled to clear the rests of the smoke. This was followed by the clicks and whirs of weapons being subspaced and targeting systems being pulled offline.

Ironhide slanted an astonished look at their CMO as his cannons stilled then folded away.

"TWO of them, how is that possible?"

Ratchet just shook his head. His optics not leaving the small mech as they noted it was starting to tremble.

"I don't know Ironhide…but there were two spark signatures before they combined. It just took me a few moments to remember where I had seen readings like that before. I am sure they are some type of split spark twins. Don't ask me how they can merge like that but by the way their energy readings are fluctuating they are going to have to separate soon."

Before the words had even left his intake, the mechling staggered slightly then with a whir of transformation shifted down into two parts. M36 rattled its armor to make a miserable whining noise as it settled down onto its belly while four human hands suddenly appeared to catch the second, much smaller mech before it could fall off onto the floor. Sam and Angelique helped guide the shaking little thing back onto the maintenance drone's, now open; very crowded cargo platform.

Jazz eased up beside Optimus.

"Okay…that's M3…." He was interrupted as the former drone made a disgruntled raspberry buzz with its armor and the optics that turned towards the silver saboteur shone with a presence that had not been there before. Jazz hesitated then started again.

"Um…I mean…I recognize Roomba. But who in the pit is the little one?"

Sam lifted his head and grinned, one hand still petting the bug like form that was pressed against him.

"Needles here, she used to be Oppy, the Mars Rover!"

Optimus moved forward but stopped when both the new bots flinched. He knelt trying to make himself look smaller as he studied them with bright optics.

"The Mars Rover? How is that even possible Ratchet."

The old medic snorted.

"You are asking me? I don't know…but there are Earth components mixed in with the Cybertronian ones on the little one, Maybe Angelique had…"

"OH NO YOU DON'T…."

The witch pinned the eldest bot with her dark glare.

"You are not blaming this one on me. This time, IT WAS NOT MY FAULT!

A slender hand lifted to stab a finger at the person next to her who wisely shifted away.

"I told you…SAM was the source of all of this. The energy started with him…Gia just reacted to it!"

The boy's head snapped up.

"WHAT… this isn't my fault! It was the shard! That thing is always doing shit like this!"

The Prime's optics narrowed.

"You are NOT talking about the Allspark shard are you…the one that is supposed to be secured in the vault?"

Wheeljack suddenly found the floor of his lab to be fascinating and Bumblebee visibly wilted as he sheepishly nodded.

Before the big mech could open his intake to reprimand them…Ratchet interrupted.

"We can play the blame game later Optimus. Right now, I've got a set of split spark mechlings who have basically skipped their youngling frames. They are confused, in pain and very low on fuel. I need to get them to my Medbay."

This prompted a snort from Ironhide. The big mech motioned an eloquent hand at the damage to his frame.

"Just how do you propose taking them there if they don't wanna go…oh wise one?"

The CMO frowned at his old friend but it was Optimus who answered. The Prime shifted towards the little group. When the smaller mechs flinched away, rattling their armor the big mech opened his field, offering safety and comfort. The Matrix within his chest stirred in curiosity, reaching out to sample the energy around the new mech's. It sent out a pulse of warm recognition… _**you are family, this is home, you belong here with us.**_

Optimus slowly moved his servo, palm up, towards them. Then rested it on the floor. His deep voice rumbled low and quiet.

"Sam… if you would show them that I mean you no harm."

Nodding in understanding, the boy carefully slid down off Roomba, limped over and settled himself onto the massive palm. The smallest mech vibrated what had once been its solar panels in a discordant keen, its four optics following the human's every move. Their brilliant gaze shifted, studying the motionless Prime before it seemed to come to a decision. It scuttled up into the mech's servo and stopped to look towards Ratchet. The CMO's optics blew wide when the little femme pinged him, sending what looked like another medical file his way along with a short, disjointed message. _Damaged…fix….fix…repair._ Stunned, the medic realized the file was filled with medical scans of SAM. His optics slid over towards the mad scientist of their group who was looking at everything else but him.

"WHEELJACK…. did you give that thing medical protocols?"

Said mad scientist just grinned….

"SURPRISE!?"

Staring daggers at the crazy bot, Ratchet pinged Needles back, sending the message that he had received the information and would attend to it. The little bot blinked its optics at him and suddenly scampered up Optimus's arm then down to the center of his wide chest…. all four small servos tapping and sliding over the panels that rested over his powerful spark, and the Matrix it protected. As if it knew she was there, the ancient artifact sent a second reassuring pulse. Fluttering her vents in what sounded like a tired sigh, the little femme flattened herself against the warm metal plates, slipping her narrow digits and pedes into the seams to hold herself in place. Blinking in surprise, Prime carefully lifted his other servo under her just in case her hold was not secure as he slowly rose. Roomba made a soft, worried burring sound as the other human carefully slid down off his cargo platform. The woman made her way over to Ratchet, who raised a brow ridge at her choice but wordlessly bent down to offer his servo. Something in the former maintenance drone recognized this mech as maybe not his creator, but something very close to that. He shifted from pede to pede for a moment, optics searching the other's familiar face. The corner of the Medic's intake curled up in a one-sided smile and his free servo motioned at the new mechling.

"Come on Roomba…lets go back to the Medbay."

Jazz had moved over to support Ironhide on his bad side, and Prowl was helping Wheeljack up. They all shifted to give their Prime and their CMO a clear path to the broken door. Roomba quietly followed the pair and the small burdens they carried.

* * *

Roomba was not sure about much, but he knew where they were going. They were going to where he felt safe, to where he felt needed. What had once been a simple drone just like him but was now so much more now…. would be happy and cared for there too. Needles and he had a place amongst these other mechs, this thing called family. They were wanted and they were going home.

* * *

I know this end leaves all sorts of questions unanswered. But as this started out a tale to give Opportunity a better end than what she received in our reality; I feel this is a good place to stop. If you are interested in reading Angelique's full story, please let me know. If I get enough interest, I will write it…After I finish up my Star Trek fanfic Where Dragons Dwell.


End file.
